


Becoming Luke

by Kila9Nishika



Series: Becoming [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Science Fiction, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3808333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kila9Nishika/pseuds/Kila9Nishika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six steps to becoming yourself.<br/>(Or, how Luke finds himself.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Luke

**Author's Note:**

> So... this was the fic that happened by accident. Now it's a series!!!! And there's actually more on the way.

**Exsistō**

There’s only so much that he could take from the other pilots, even with Ben’s training echoing in the back of his head, so Luke wandered out of the base and into the dense foliage only three days after arriving on Yavin 4.

On the fifth day, Luke was startled (nearly out of the tree he had perched in) by a voice he had grown quite familiar with.

“They’re jealous of ya, kid.”

Luke shifted, staring at the speaker from the tree.  Ever since he had realized Chewbacca’s old friendship with Ben, Luke had promised himself to befriend both the Wookiee and his smuggling partner.  But Han Solo was a prickly character, and not one that Luke could easily understand.

“For what?”  Luke swallowed back any residual bitterness.  “For my flying skills?  Right.  Darklighter grew up right beside me, and he’s just as good.”

To Luke’s surprise, Solo grabbed a tree branch and hoisted himself into the tree.  “Nah, but you’re a Skywalker, kid.  Twice as good as any of ‘em, and twice as smart to the boot.”

Luke leaned against the tree trunk.  “If that made any difference, they’d shut up about how _pretty_ I am.”  He snapped his mouth shut.  Solo had yet to say a single word about how....girlish....Luke was, and he had not intended on sparking something slightly crude or sarcastic (which seemed to be the Han Solo main defaults).

Solo snorted.  “Core humans and backwater kids.  Why d’you  think I didn’t wanna stick around?  There’s enough money in the Rebellion to make me a happy man, and I sure don’t love the Empire.”

Luke hesitated.  “Why _did_ you stay?”  Even utilizing every mental technique that Ben had taught him, he couldn’t quite convince his muscles to relax.

Swinging around on the branch, Solo lay down, looking like the epitome of a boy at rest.  “One,” he said, raising a finger, “You and the old man hired me.  I ain’t goin’ back on that, no matter what people say about smugglers’ honor.  Two,” a second finger, “Chewie’s stayin’ and I ain’t about to let him float.  Three, I hate the Empire as much as anyone else in this pile o’ Sithspit, and four, my family’d never forgive me if I didn’t.”

Luke blinked.  “Your family?”

Solo didn’t move.  “Yep.  Ma Lida and Ma Licia and Da Dorron and twenty-three sibs and sibs-by-marriage, and fourteen sibs’-kids with more on the way.  Solo clan’s grown, since the Clone Wars.”

“You talk about your family - and mine, actually - like they’re well-known names.”  It could have been exactly the wrong thing to say, but the Force seemed to be implying the opposite.  And -

“They were.”  Solo - Han - sat up, a faint frown on his face.  “Forgot how young y’are, kid.  Anakin Skywalker was flippin’ famous, during the Wars.  Everyone knew his name.  Chatter on Corellia was that Vader got him, early on.  Probably true, too.  His rep, unlikely the Emperor would’ve stuck around long, not between Anakin Skywalker and General Kenobi.”  He paused grinning.  

“Yeah, I’m not stupid, I know the old man was the General.  Also know not to spread it around, despite what Chewie thinks.  Anyway, before the Wars, Solo clan was big in CorSec - that’s Corellia Security.  Most of us ended up fightin’ in the Wars, and my Ma Licia was all deep in it.  I remember some of it.  Too much, really.  Spent a couple o’years infiltratin’ the Imperial Academy when I was still just a kid, really, and got blown out o’ that cover in the worst way.”  He winked.  “When you’re infiltratin’ the enemy, kid, don’t get mad when you see ‘em whippin’ a good guy, yeah?  Chewie saved me from that one.”

“Oh.”  It was a lot of information to digest.  Perhaps that was why he said what he did - Luke had never been great at holding his tongue when emotionally shaken.  “So why don’t you treat me like everyone else does?”

Han scowled.

"Like I said. Core humans and backwater kids.  Wouldn't see their own bigotry if ya painted it pink and slapped it their faces.  Corellia may be Core, kid, but it ain't _Core_.  What d'you think yon princess would say if I told her I got two mums and useta have three?"

Luke winced. He knew - in that painful way that came from the Force, so _true_ that there was no denying it - that Leia would be kind, polite, and...as distant as she was with Luke, now. Intellectually allied, but uncomfortable.

Just as he knew, through the Force, that Leia's discomfort had been taught by the stiff societal norms of Alderaan, and not her more open-minded (and now deceased) adoptive parents.

Han slid out of the tree. "Yeah.  Kid, my sister _works_ at Feel Safe, on Naboo.  You ever get sick of these bigots, Chewie 'n I got a quick ship off here."

 

**Hit'havut**  
From the moment that he turned off his targeting computer, Luke knew.  He knew that Han had never really left, knew that he would make the shot, and knew that he would never be able to fit with the other Rebels.

He made the shot, and Han promptly saved his ass.

The celebration was bittersweet - Luke was pleased to see the leaders of the Rebellion acknowledging Chewbacca and Han’s heroics, but his own reward was pointless.  Any Jedi could have made that shot, especially with a _particularly meddling_ dead Jedi whispering in their ear.

Also, hero status didn’t stop the glares from the surviving pilots who _hadn’t_ made the shot.

_“I’m not sure how I feel about being called meddling.”_

Luke slid to the ground, hiding behind the tree that he had claimed when they had first arrived at Yavin 4.  “You’re a dead Jedi who’s floating around as a ghost making sure nothing happens to me.  I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of meddling.”

Ben ‘sat’ beside him.   _“Not everyone on this moon is celebrating, Luke.”_

Luke threw a long stare at the Force ghost beside him.  “Really?  Could’ve fooled me.”

_“Chewbacca and your friend Han are currently holding a drinking contest with an old friend of mine.  It seems that you are not the only person who still feels the darkness which surrounds us.”_

Luke snorted at Ben’s use of the word ‘us,’ but stood anyway.  “Don’t suppose Leia could see you?  You could explain to her that she’s my _sister_ , and that killing thousands of people is _not_ a time for celebration.”

_“No such luck,”_ Ben replied drily.   _“Go visit with your friend.  I’ll see you again when you meet Yoda on Dagobah.”_  He began to fade, and then stopped.   _“Oh, and tell her Obi-Wan says that he misses her.”_

Before Luke could parse that strange remark, Ben vanished.

“Cryptic Jedi Masters,” Luke mumbled, shaking his head.  Taking a brief moment to center himself and clear some of his roiling emotions from the front of his mind, Luke mentally began to search the moon for the unique mental feeling that was Han Solo.

He found Han, as Ben had said, drinking.  His companion in alcohol was a Togruta woman, who looked nearly as miserable as Luke felt.  Leaning against a wall, Chewbacca seemed to be simply watching them match drink for drink.

“Three days in a hole with Anakin Skywalker.”

“A week on Mandalore on the run with Chewie.”

“Ryloth blockade.”

“Seventh Corellian Siege.”

“Four days on a ship trying _not_ to kill Asajj kriffing Ventress.”

Han glared at his drinking companion, and downed his glass.  “Dammit, when was _that_?  I thought she tried to kill you!”

“Last year,” the woman replied, sounding more tired than smug.  “Believe it or not, she hates the Empire as much as I do.  Definitely hates Vader more than anyone I know.”

“Why?”  Luke cut in, flinching slightly at the sharp gaze the woman turned on him.  After a moment, she shook her head.  

“They screwed her over really well.  Also, she insisted that she was the only person allowed to have a vendetta against me.”  She blinked.  “You’re the kid.  S-Skywalker.  Luke.”

Luke nodded.  “Yeah.  Um…”

The woman shook her head.  “I’m being rude.  Master Kenobi would be giving me the disappointed face.  Ahsoka Tano, known to most of the idiots on this moon as Fulcrum.”

Luke took a shaky breath, startled by the familiar way in which Tano referred to Ben - the old Jedi way, too.  “Ah...Ben told me to tell you that Obi-Wan says that he misses you.”

Tano’s eyes softened.  “Old man got soft, didn’t he,” she murmured, but the words had an affectionate tone.  “Pull up a rock, kid, and tell Auntie Ahsoka why you look like me ‘n Solo.”

Luke sat slowly on the nearest rock that didn’t look alive.  “I know…” he said slowly, “I know that this was a victory, but…” he bit his lip.  “Thousands of people are dead, and everyone is celebrating!”

Tano shoved her glass at him.  “Drink.  Solo’s giving me a ride to Naboo in the morning, despite the massive hangovers we’ll both be sporting.  Join us.”

“In drink?” Luke asked dubiously, taking the glass at Tano’s glare.

“No!  Well, yes,” Tano said, shaking her head.  “But also, in the morning.  Agree with the Rebellion or not, you want to stick around with a bunch of politician wannabes?  At least Bail Organa and Padme Amidala were decent people when they weren’t politics-making.”

Luke glanced warily at Han, who looked more relaxed than he had a few moments ago.  “Free bunk in the hold, waitin’ for ya,” the man said easily.

Luke drank the glass of alcohol, and nodded firmly.  “Yeah.  I’ll come with.  I’ve been meaning to head to Naboo, anyway.”

“Thattaboy!” Tano slapped him on the back, hard enough to nearly topple him.  “Now, let me tell you why you should call me Auntie Ahsoka, and not Lady Tano, or whatever nonsense you have in your head…”

 

**Anagénni̱si̱**

“You look like my brother, you know.”

Luke looked up from his breakfast.  He had three days left under “medical observation” to make sure that nothing dramatically bad happened, and then he would be leaving Naboo.  It was a pity - Naboo was the perfect place to immerse oneself in the Force.  For all of the imposing Imperial presence, the planet exuded life and peace.

“Do I?”  Luke directed his question at his hostess, who smiled and sat.

“Yeah.  Kiran would _love_ to have your eyes, but you guys could be twins!  Or at least, brothers.”  Ryoo Naberrie beamed at him.  “Of course, then Pooja would be upset, because she was mad when she had _one_ brother.  But really.  You do look like a Naberrie.”

Luke shrugged.  Something about that sounded...familiar, almost as if someone had said something similar before.  “I’ll ask Ben the next chance I get.”

Ryoo shook her head.  “Jedi,” she breathed.  “So, Nala did a good job?” she asked, changing the subject.  While Feel Safe might be run by Rebels and anti-Imperial activists, it was always a good idea to watch one’s tongue.

Luke nodded.  “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like _me_.”

Ryoo stood, still beaming.  “Well, Fulcrum did always say that Nala could have been - well, _you_ know, if it was still the old days.  I’ll send your regards!  See you in the fitness class this evening!”

“See you,” Luke replied, but Ryoo was already bounding away.  Of the Naberrie family, Luke had only met Ryoo and Pooja, and his impression had been of opposites.  Pooja was self-contained, but hid a passionate nature, while Ryoo was exuberant and genuine, but rarely held onto any sort of negative emotion.

“I see that all is still well with the Naberrie clan.”

Luke stood, and turned, a smile already spreading across his face.  “I thought you said that you were busy for the next three days!”

Han Solo shrugged, and climbed over the gating and onto the breakfast balcony.  “Yeah, well, seems that some of the Gungans remembered me from my last trip here, so it went easier than I thought.  Queen Kylantha will be able to take her vacation without Imperial interference.”  And while normally, such a phrase might be accompanied by a slight sneer, in this case, Han was genuine.  Shailaya Kylantha was playing a dangerous game, carefully balancing political expediency against her personal leanings (which were against the Empire).  On their first day in Naboo space, Luke had gotten the distinct impression that, if Kylantha _wasn’t_ completely and totally in love with her wife, Han would have happily swept in like the hero of some old (bad) romance.

“So, what are you going to do?  Just hang around?”

Han scowled.  “Not if I can help it.  If I hang around too long,  Nala’ll get ahold of me, and the last thing I need is my older sister and her lover deciding that I need a _vacation_.”  In the world of Han Solo, Luke had discovered, vacations were for everyone _except_ Han Solo.

“Would that be so bad?”  Luke liked Ryoo Naberrie and Nala Solo, and he definitely would _not_ mind the extended presence of his second-ever friend.

Han winced.  “Oh, yeah.  Remind me to tell you about my twentieth birthday - or, wait, don’t.  Yeah, never reliving _that_ one.  So, I’m gonna do a quick run to Enarc with Ahsoka, and I should be back in two days.”

Luke snorted, and tossed Han the crumbling remains of his meal.  “I’ll plan for four days from now, then?”

Han shook his head, lips twitching, and dropped out of sight.

 

**Seichō**

“You’re ill.”

“Not ill, am I.”

“Will you believe it if Ben tells you?  Because he will.”

“A state of mind, all life is.  Ill, I am not.”

Luke sighed.  “Master Yoda, _please_.  You are the last known living Jedi Master.  Don’t do this.”

“Time, perhaps, it has become.” Yoda replied, staring out at the swamps surrounding his hut.  “Well, did Obi-Wan teach you.  Ready, perhaps you are.”

“Visions, you have had, perhaps?”

Luke winced.  “Yes, Master Yoda.  I have had visions of Leia.  And Han.  But my interference without being trained would do them both little good, and the Force has not yet pushed me to leave Dagobah.”

“Leave soon, you will.”  Yoda walked back into his hut, and sat heavily.  “Passed your trials, you did.   Live without you, I can.  For nine hundred years, I have.”

Luke sighed.  “If it truly is time, then I can’t force you to seek medical aid.  But, Master Yoda - keep in touch?  Like Ben, if nothing else?”

Yoda patted Luke’s hand, his Force presence curled like a warm embrace.  “Of course, keep in touch, I will.  A good Padawan, you have been.  A good Knight, you will be.  Proud of you, I am.”

_“As am I.”_

“Meddling Force ghost,” Luke mumbled affectionately, just as Yoda swung his cane through Ben’s ghostly presence.  “Do I really have to leave?”

“Time, it is,” Yoda insisted.  “See me again, you shall.”

_“Besides, if you stay much longer, you’ll start talking like Yoda.”_

Luke snorted, and Yoda waved his cane again.  “Cheeky Jedi, you still are!” the old Master declared.  “Find a way to smack you, I can!”

Luke kept the smile on his face all the way back to the little shuttle that Han had left with him and R2-D2.

{Are we leaving?} R2-D2 chirped, rocking from side to side.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed, running a quick maintenance check before hitting the engines.  “We’re going.”

{Don’t be sad!  It won’t be so damp anymore, right?}

“Right.”  Luke closed his eyes.  His little shuttle would take six hours to get to the main junction of the Rimma Trade Route and the Nothoiin Corridor, which meant that he had time to meditate on the chaotic state of his emotions.  It was time to see what those visions were about…

{Luke!}

Luke blinked out of meditation, shaken, and barely hit the controls in time to shift from the Rimma Trade Route to the Nothoiin Corridor.  “Thanks, R2.”

{Is there a problem?  Can I help?}

Luke shook his head.  “Nothing we can do now, R2.  It’ll take more than a day to get from here to Gerrenthum, and then we still have to take the Corellian Trade Spine all the way to Bespin.”  He paused.  “I just said that, didn’t I?”

{Yes.}

Luke shook his head.  “There are more subtle ways to get my attention,” he mumbled, pushing away from the controls.  “Get me a few minutes before I have to shift lanes, okay?”

{Sure!}

Luke stood, smacked his head on the ceiling, and stumbled over to the small plank masquerading as a bunk.  There was nothing that he could do now but prepare himself, and wait.

Han and Leia were waiting for him. On Bespin, apparently.   (And boy, would he like to hear how _they_ ended up in the same place!)

 

**Parīkṣaṇa**

_“You have confused him - your Force presence has changed.”_

“Oh really?”  Luke gasped, taking a moment as Vader decided to move more dramatically than was really necessary in a fight to the death.   _Why does that confuse him?_

Ben shifted, and flickered uneasily beside him, shifting out of the way as Vader swung forward.   _“He knows who you are, Luke.  Who you were, and he was expecting someone different_. _”_

Luke gritted his teeth.   _Yeah,_ he thought sharply, _but all my extra practice isn’t going to help me, because I’m still not entirely comfortable with my new center of balance!_

“You grow weak, Skywalker,” Vader hissed, each word accompanied by a wave of darkness.

Luke winced, and threw himself behind a protruding wall.  Vader was right.  All of his practice with Yoda wouldn’t be enough to -

_“Luke, duck!”_

Luke ducked, and rolled, nearly falling from the catwalk.  If only he could get a moment to _breathe_ -

Another close call sent Luke’s lightsaber clattering across the catwalk, and into the empty air beyond.

He had lost.

"If you only knew the power of the dark side.” Vader said, sounding almost pitying.  “Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

In a way, Vader was right - Ben had never sat down and told him what had happened to his father.  But Luke knew.  Ben had once said that Vader had killed Anakin Skywalker, and rumors stated that Skywalker had vanished in the early days of the Empire.  But Ben’s many stories about happier days with Anakin, and the first days of the Empire, told with aching shadows in his eyes, had revealed more than simple words ever could.  

In a way, Vader was wrong.  Ben had once said that Vader had killed Anakin Skywalker, and there was no evidence of Anakin Skywalker in the hulking black Sith before him.

Something in the Force _moved_ , and Luke felt words fall to his lips, his fear and anger fueling each word as they had not fueled his fight.

“He told me enough!  He told me you killed him!”

Or had he?  Beyond the Force shadow that was Darth Vader, something weakened and shimmery shifted uneasily, as if caged and attempting to break free.

“No,” Vader said, standing over him.  “I _am_ your father.”

Luke took a long look at Vader, and assessed his position.  If he rolled a foot to the left, he would fall - possibly to his death.  If he didn’t, he placed himself in an infinitely more dangerous position - into Darth Vader’s hands.

“No,” Luke replied, “You _were_ my father.”  And he rolled to the left.

He was completely surprised when something hard smacked into him, enough to make his ears ring.

“Hey, kid,” a voice said, gently lifting him as the ground moved wildly.  “Didja miss us?”

Through blurry eyes, Luke saw the heavily scarred face of a female Togruta swing into his vision.  In the background, voices rang like bells, one of them oddly familiar but just out of his range.

“Ahhhhssssssss’kaaaa?” he slurred.  The woman’s lips moved, but Luke saw no more.

Everything faded into nothing.

 

**Entente**

"Is he going to be alright?"

"He should be _fine_ , bacta is a wonderful thing."

"Then why won't he wake up?  I have - I have so much to apologize for."

"I'm no Healer, but he'll wake up when he's ready. In the meanwhile, your hovering is not going to help."

Luke opened his eyes. For a moment, everything was blurry and green-tinted, and the air smelled like bacta. Then -

"Luke!"

A small body barreled into him, ignoring the oozing glop of bacta still clinging to his body.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I was such an _idiot_!"

Luke sniffed back the terrible stench of bacta.

"Leia, it's fine."  He frowned. "Wait - where's Han? And what were you doing on Bespin with him, anyway?"

Leia blinked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. "That's my fault, too!  I've been so _stupid_ , lately."

"You've been an ass, yeah, but you've also learned your lesson." Ahsoka moved into view, brandishing a towel. "Luke, clean up.  Leia, explain."

Luke wiped his face of residual bacta, while Leia twisted her hands anxiously.

"I was - really stupid," Leia stumbled. "After we left Yavin, some Imperials found one of our outposts, and I was captured. Captain Solo saved me - and, he told me that I was being stupid. And explained stuff to me. I have a lot to learn. I know. And I'm sorry. Really."

Luke finished wiping the remains of the bacta from his arms, and embraced his sister.

"It'll be okay."  Luke shut his eyes. Somehow, they would get Han back. "It'll be okay."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Exsistō - (Latin) becoming  
> Hit'havut - (Hebrew) becoming  
> Anagénni̱si̱ - (Greek) rebirth  
> Seichō - (Japanese) growing  
> Parīkṣaṇa - (Hindi) trial  
> Entente - (French) accord


End file.
